


Do Not Resist

by Dracothelizard



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Dubious Consent, Kinkmeme, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Ritual Public Sex, Ritualistic breeding, Sort of knotting because of tentacle secretions, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 10:26:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracothelizard/pseuds/Dracothelizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the following prompt on the kinkmeme:<br/>Being an Eldritch abomination somewhat akin to a succubus, Cecil is perennially afflicted with the irresistible need to be bred. Carlos is unaware of this biological tic (for lack of a better term) until he and Cecil are dating, and Cecil shows up on his doorstep in the dead of night, panting and unbearably aroused. Cecil proceeds to ride the shit out of a very willing Carlos. HOWEVER, mid-coitus, the City Council inexplicably appears and oversees the breeding of the beloved Voice of Night Vale.</p><p>In fewer words, desperate, blissed-out sex in a blood pentagram while the Council watches and coaches a very uncomfortable Carlos through the process of breeding a very geeky Eldritch being.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Not Resist

He always has the radio on in the background when he works, both to keep up with the latest strange occurrences in Night Vale and to fill up the silence. 

Even the static that gets broadcast daily between noon and 2 PM, where Carlos is sure he can hear a faint, horrific scream amongst the crackle, is better than the silence.

He's studying the desert sand under the microscope, listening to Cecil's soothing voice with half an ear.

It's not as soothing as it normally is, and when Cecil says 'uhm' for the second time in five minutes, Carlos sits up, sand forgotten.

Live on air, Cecil never says 'uhm', or 'er' or any other filler words. Nor does he stammer or trip over his words. Carlos, who has been a TA and knows how hard it is to talk well in public, admires Cecil's skill. Ever since the first broadcast Carlos has heard, he has never heard Cecil sound this, well, distracted. 

But that couldn't be, because there is nothing that could distract Cecil from doing his duty at the station - Carlos has tried once, two weeks ago, arguing that leaving work on a whim to spend the day with your boyfriend was an important milestone in any burgeoning relationship, but Cecil was shocked by the mere idea of abandoning the station. 

Carlos keeps listening intently, trying to detect patterns. Cecil sounds perfectly normal during the segment on the gaping chasm into a starry void that appeared around Big Rico's, but he stumbles over a few words when he mentions the upcoming high school dance. 

"And remember, always make sure your children carry protection with them on this wonderful, magical night out. I remember how glad I was that my mother had given me our old crossbow with the silver arrows that night, because otherwise I might not be here now." Cecil gave a wistful sigh. "I know it's hard to imagine that the same - same special creatures you once cradled in your arms are now nearly adults, but it's something we all have to deal with. Children are the future of our charming town, so make sure it's a night to remember. For them, and the hooded figures." 

Cecil keeps coming back to the dance even during segments that have nothing to do with it, always with a wistful tone. 

Maybe it's an unhappy or even happy memory of the dance that is making Cecil so distracted tonight. Carlos makes a mental to ask Cecil about it tomorrow during lunch. 

He goes back to studying the sand during the weather, then grows worried during the final segment. Cecil's voice is shaking, and he can barely manage to say his usual good night to the community.

Carlos frowns. Would it be overbearing if he went over to Cecil's apartment right now? They've only been on five dates, and while those dates were great, rushing to Cecil's side simply because he sounded funny on the radio wasn't something you did after five dates. Best to ask about it tomorrow.

Five minutes later, someone is pounding on the front door and Carlos looks up from his work. Cecil is one of the few people to visit him, and he alwaysknocks politely, as if he's afraid Carlos would turn him away. He sincerely hopes it's not the City Council or the Sheriff's Secret Police.

He opens the door with some trepidation, and has already opened his mouth to ask Cecil what he's doing here and why he looks so pale, when Cecil collapses in his arms. 

"Cecil?" Carlos asks, awkwardly turning them both so he can push Cecil up against the wall. "Cecil? Can you hear me?" 

Cecil lets out a soft groan, his eyes closed. His forehead is damp with sweat, and Carlos brushes away some of the hair that got stuck out of the way. Cecil feels like he’s burning up. 

Carlos pulls his hand back in pain and surprise. "Cecil, what's going on?" 

Cecil doesn't reply, he just sways forward and Carlos lets him. Whatever is wrong with his boyfriend, he's not going to figure it out in the hallway. He kicks his front door shut, then wraps Cecil's arm around his neck and helps him to the lab and the old couch in the corner. 

As they move slowly, Cecil presses against Carlos, sighing happily. "Carlos," he murmurs. "Oh, Carlos." Cecil's other hand has come to rest on Carlos' stomach, and the heat from Cecil's body is almost unbearable.

Finally, he manages to sit Cecil down on the sofa, and picks up his feet to swing them up so Cecil can lie down. “Do you need some water?” he asks, briefly resting his hand on Cecil’s forehead again. 

Cecil finally opens his eyes and to Carlos’ surprise, his irises are a deep blood red. “Carlos,” he mutters, and reaches out with one shaking arm to grab Carlos’ elbow. 

“Yes, Cecil? Do I need to take you to the hospital?” Carlos asks, leaning closer. He has a thermometer around here somewhere, but he doesn’t want to leave Cecil alone. 

“Carlos,” Cecil hisses, and his grip on Carlos’ elbow tightens until it’s like a vice, and with a strength Carlos didn’t know Cecil possessed, Cecil pulls Carlos up on the sofa, on top of him. Cecil moans happily, rubbing his cheek against Carlos’ stubble and letting out a low, rumbling noise that Carlos can only describe as a purr. “Yes, Carlos.” 

Cecil’s other arm has wound around Carlos’ waist and between it and Cecil’s hand on his elbow, Carlos can’t get up. He tries, but Cecil snarls, and Carlos can feel nails dig into his labcoat. “O-Okay, Cecil, I’m not going anywhere.” 

Cecil purrs at that, and Carlos shivers when Cecil’s long tail winds itself around his right leg, coiling tightly. “Perfect Carlos.” 

Carlos sneaks a glance down his shoulder, staring at the furry tail that’s undulating in a way that would be relaxing if it wasn’t for Carlos going out of his mind with worry. “Cecil, your tail’s not supposed to be that puffed up, is it?” The few times he had seen it, the golden fur had been sleek and lain flat. Cecil prided himself on how well he cared for his tail, insisting it was the softest, most perfect thing anyone could caress, except for Carlos’ beautiful hair, of course. Carlos has carefully petted the tail, and agreed that it was very soft. Right now, though, tufts of hair are standing up in odd angles, like a cat about to pick a fight.

Except that Cecil is very, very much not picking a fight. He’s aggressive, but not violent. Cecil’s hands are stroking Carlos now, through the fabric of his labcoat, still burning hot. Carlos shifts slowly on top of Cecil, trying to get more comfortable, and his mouth drops when the evidence of how Cecil is definitely not looking for a fight presses hard against his side. They haven’t discussed sex yet, but Carlos was looking forward to having some, desperately wishing that the people of Night Vale did have sex rather than pollinate or something. 

Going by Cecil, it seems that they do. He leans up on his elbows, and Cecil lets out a whine when Carlos breaks the contact between his face and Cecil’s. “Cecil?” he asks. “What’s going on?” 

Cecil smiles at him dreamily with those red eyes and the hand that has been gripping his elbow comes up to tenderly stroke Carlos’ cheek. It’s still hot, but not as scorching as earlier. “Forgive me, sweet, perfect Carlos,” he murmurs. “I was hoping to talk to you about this first, prepare you, but I guess I lost track of my cycle.” He raises his head to give Carlos a brief kiss. “You are so very distracting, Carlos.” 

“Talk about what?” Carlos asks. A cycle? That implies this is something that happens regularly. It also implies that Cecil isn’t dying, which is a relief. “Cecil?”

Cecil tilts his hips to rub his groin against Carlos’ body, and moans. “Oh, Carlos,” he sighs. “This will be perfect.” 

“What will be perfect?” Carlos asks. His own dick is beginning to harden as well. 

“The breeding,” Cecil replies, the hand on Carlos’ cheek running up to tangle in his hair. Cecil whimpers, then pulls Carlos down into a searing kiss. 

The kiss is amazing, passionate without being too forceful, but all Carlos can think about is ‘the breeding’. Cecil’s tail shifts to coil around his thigh, pulling on it to spread Carlos’ legs, allowing Cecil more space to thrust up. Eventually, Cecil releases Carlos, but keeps running his fingers through Carlos’ hair, stroking Carlos’ skull. It feels really nice. In fact, everything that Cecil is doing to him feels nice, but he can’t let that distract him. “What, mm, what breeding?” 

“Ours, of course,” Cecil says, smiling again. “Our children will be beautiful and intelligent, Carlos, can you imagine?” 

“Ch-children?” he manages, because yes, okay, Cecil mentioned breeding, but, well, surely that’s just another one of Night Vale’s rituals that does not involve Cecil getting pregnant. “Our children?” 

Cecil nods. “Yes, Carlos, our wonderful children.” He sighs wistfully, like he did on the radio earlier. “I should’ve known that being with you sped up my cycle. Usually the need doesn’t become this strong until three months after the first date, but you are special, Carlos. Special.” He smiles up at Carlos, who smiles back awkwardly.

“And this, er, breeding is part of your cycle?” Carlos asks. Cecil is pulling at his labcoat and Carlos shrugs it off, dropping it on the floor. 

“Yes!” Cecil says, now reaching for Carlos’ t-shirt. “I knew you would understand, you’re so clever, Carlos.” 

Carlos is silent as Cecil pulls the t-shirt over his head. “So you’re in heat?” He shouldn’t be surprised by any of this.

Cecil runs his hands down Carlos’ chest, sighing happily when his fingers run through Carlos’ chesthair. “Heat,” he murmurs, but he sounds distracted, his eyes following his hands.

The heat from Cecil’s hands, which Carlos was slightly worried about, isn’t so bad now. In fact, Carlos thinks, it’s nice. “How long does your, er, cycle last?” Because if he’s got a week of this ahead of him, he’s gonna have to stock up on coffee and food. 

Cecil smiles at him, pushing at his shoulders until Carlos sits up, straddling Cecil’s lap and Cecil sits up as well. “Usually until you spill your seed in me to create our perfect young.” He kisses Carlos, warm hands stroking Carlos’ neck, down his arms, back, chest, while Carlos sits there, his own hands in the air, hanging there uselessly. 

He wants this, he definitely wants Cecil touching him everywhere, and he also wants to touch Cecil everywhere once he gets Cecil’s buttoned-down shirt off, but this talk of breeding and cycles has him worried. He manages to pull back, and Cecil looks at him, smiling brightly. “Do you – do we have to breed?” he asks. 

Cecil’s face falls. “Don’t you want to?” he asks. “Carlos, don’t you want to hear the schlick-schlock of tiny baby feet around the house? Well, not around here, of course, the lab is far too dangerous for children, but think, Carlos! Think of wonderful it would be!” 

Carlos doesn’t bother to correct Cecil that it’s the pitter-patter of baby feet, because this is Night Vale and Cecil is probably right. He also feels guilty for making Cecil looks so sad. “It’s not that I don’t want children,” he says, “but, er, aren’t we rushing things?” 

“Sweet, sensible Carlos,” Cecil murmurs, wrapping his hand around the back of Carlos’ neck to pull him in for a kiss. “Always so worried. You’ll be a wonderful father.”

“What happens if I – if we don’t, y’know, get you pregnant?” Carlos asks, trying to ignore the way his dick is telling him to stop talking and worrying and just enjoy the willing and aroused man underneath him. His groin is so close to Cecil's he can feel the outline of a hard bulge against his own. 

“You don’t want to know,” Cecil tells him, his voice suddenly very serious. “You don’t even want to think about that, Carlos.”

Carlos nods, once, his heart beating faster now. Cecil is calmly undoing the buttons of his shirt, one by one. “Right,” he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose, fighting down the panic. By the time he opens his eyes again, definitely not thinking about terrible consequences – surely having children with Cecil can’t be worse than whatever Night Vale has in store for him when he doesn’t – Cecil’s shirt is off. He stares at the tattoos, or perhaps it’s just one big tattoo, on Cecil’s body. 

He has seen the swirls on Cecil’s arms, of course, but the patterns on his chest are more intricate, curling around each other. They’re also red like blood, and Carlos frowns. Are they pulsating? He reaches out with one hand, carefully tracing a spiral on Cecil’s chest. Cecil shudders underneath him, whimpering. “Carlos, please, don’t tease me, not tonight.” 

Carlos immediately pulls his hand back. “Sorry, I didn’t know that – that was an erogenous zone for you,” he mutters, blushing. He wonders if it’s the tattoo or just Cecil’s chest that’s sensitive. 

“Next time,” Cecil promises him. He shuffles back to open his belt and undo his zipper. “Next time you can satisfy your scientific curiosity.” 

It’s embarrassing that _that_ makes Carlos’ dick jerk eagerly in his boxers. He’s still staring at the swirls on Cecil’s stomach, and his heartbeat slows down, some of his panic receding. Maybe having children with Cecil will be wonderful, and Cecil has done it before, so Cecil’ll know how to raise them right. Maybe the child will even become a scientist, investigating Night Vale along with him, and Carlos smiles.

Cecil pulls his pants down over his hips, and Carlos expects to see a penis spring free, and he’s even prepared for it to be as decorated as the rest of Cecil, but instead it’s – it’s tentacles that are twined together and Carlos stares, his mouth open but no sounds are coming out. The size and shape is roughly like that of a penis, explaining Carlos’ wrong assumption. When the tentacles untwine, Carlos gasps. There’s four of them, writhing in Cecil’s lap, and Cecil lets out a happy groan. “Oh, that feels good,” he murmurs. “Having them free like that.” 

Carlos is still staring at them. They’re all the same colour, a deep, rich purple at the base which gradually becomes a reddish pink at the tips. “Can I?” he asks, his right hand hovering over them. 

Cecil beams at him. “Of course you can touch them, Carlos! Please, do!” He leans back on his hands, biting his lip as Carlos lowers his hand tentatively. 

Carlos touches one of the tentacles with one finger, and strokes it. It immediately winds around his finger. It’s amazing how slick it feels, and like the rest of Cecil, it’s very warm to the touch. “This is a bit of a surprise,” he mutters, marvelling at how two of the other tentacles sway over as well, brushing against his hand and wrist. 

“I know, most are green or even blue, and mine’s purple!” Cecil exclaims, blushing when the fourth wraps around Carlos’ wrist as well, pulling him in. “Sorry, it’s just – I really need you, Carlos. Please, I need you to take me, breed me, fill me completely.” 

Carlos’ face turns bright red at Cecil’s desperate words. His hand is covered in the tentacles’ secretion now. He tries to pull back, but the tentacles are strong. “Uhm, I’ll, er, we can do that,” he mutters, awkwardly trying to pull open his belt with his one free hand.

“Oh no, let me!” Cecil shifts closer, his four tentacles letting go of Carlos’ wrist to wrap around Carlos’ belt to pull it open. One of the tentacles manages to open the button, while another slides down his zipper. When Cecil notices Carlos’ open-mouthed stare of surprise, he smiles. “I know, they are unnaturally prehensile,” he says bashfully. 

Carlos nods, still staring. The four tentacles worked together perfectly, retracting now so Carlos can push down his pants. When he does, he gasps when his hard, aching dick is freed. Oh, that feels nice. 

“What is that?” Cecil screams, backing away and panting wildly. He points at Carlos’ groin.

For a moment, Carlos is worried his own penis has been replaced by something else, so he looks down. No, everything is exactly where it should be. Good. “Uhm, my penis?” 

Cecil frowns. “You only have one tentacle?” He leans closer, still wary. His tail is up in the air, fur still puffed up. “And it’s such an unusual colour!” 

“I guess,” Carlos says, watching Cecil. “You don’t mind, do you?” This isn’t going how he hoped at all. To be fair, he hoped his first time with Cecil wouldn’t involve Cecil begging to be bred, and he expected there would be fewer tentacles involved, but Cecil being surprised by Carlos’ penis was not on Carlos’ list. Not that he has a list. 

Cecil tilts his head. “Where does the seed come out?” he asks. He’s already pushing his pants and briefs down to his knees, down to his ankles and off the couch. 

Carlos is distracted by Cecil being completely naked now, his legs also covered in the swirling red of the tattoo, but not as much as his chest. “Oh, from the top,” he explains gesturing vaguely.

“Good,” Cecil purrs, his tail swishing behind him in the air as he moves closer, pushing Carlos back against the armrest. “Very good.” 

Carlos sits back, watching as Cecil straddles him, towers over him and smiles down. For a moment, Carlos is both scared beyond belief and aroused as hell. “Cecil,” he breathes.

Cecil nods, and lowers himself down. “Carlos,” he says softly. “Perfect, beautiful, wonderful Carlos.”

When he feels Cecil’s ass nudge his dick, Carlos frowns. “Er, don’t we need lube?” Condoms are out, of course, and he doesn’t even bother mentioning them.

Cecil grins, two of his slick tentacles stroking Carlos’ stomach, the other two sliding down, between Cecil’s legs and further back. “That won’t be necessary.” 

Carlos moans when one of the tentacles wraps around his dick, holding it steady as Cecil moves down. Cecil’s hands are on Carlos’ shoulders, and the look on Cecil’s face is one of joyful anticipation. He wants to tell Cecil to go slow, because tentacle secretion or not, Cecil should be careful even if he is in heat. He opens his mouth to tell Cecil, but he can only manage a ragged groan when Cecil slides down, the tip of his dick going in smoothly. 

Cecil nods, his eyes closed now as he moves down swiftly, taking Carlos’ dick with no trouble at all. “Oh Carlos,” he moans. “You feel so good, Carlos.”

“Hnng,” says Carlos, because he can’t put into words what it feels like to be inside of Cecil. It’s hot and slick and smooth and tight and he never wants to be anywhere else ever again.

Cecil’s hands are stroking his chest, his tail is swishing behind him, flatter now. Cecil leans down to kiss him again, one hand wandering up his neck and into his hair. Things are wonderful, but then they get even more wonderful because Cecil starts to move. 

Carlos groans into the kiss as Cecil rides him, slow at first, then picking up speed and rolling his hips and Carlos is pretty sure he’s seeing stars. He wraps his arms around Cecil, holding him tight, wanting to keep him there forever, wanting to keep the two of them there forever. 

Cecil kisses his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his breath hot on Carlos’ face. He’s murmuring sweet nothings, or at least Carlos assumes that’s what they are, because he doesn’t quite understand the language. The four tentacles are still gently caressing Carlos’ stomach, writhing and squirming happily. 

Carlos notices that Cecil’s tattoos are now a brighter red, the pulsing more obvious. He’ll have to ask about that some other time when he can think about things that aren’t how glorious it feels to be inside Cecil. Cecil moves smoothly, never slowing down. If anything, Cecil is only going faster and harder, moaning as he slams down on Carlos’ dick and Carlos is not going to last much longer. He’s panting as he nuzzles Cecil’s neck, pressing quick kisses against the skin. If he presses his lips there hard enough, he can feel the blood pumping through Cecil’s arteries. Just a little more, just a little longer, he’s so close to coming, so close, so close, so –

There is a tentative knock on the door. 

Cecil freezes in Carlos’ lap, Carlos’ dick fully inside of him. “Oh dear,” he says.

‘Oh dear’ is not something Carlos wants to hear right now. “Cecil?” he manages, once he’s regained the power to speak.

Cecil bites his lip, his red eyes wide. “I was going to tell you this before we started, honestly, Carlos, but I could only think of one thing, and that was how good and wonderful it would feel to have you fill me with your seed.” He looks anxious. 

“What’s going on?” he asks. 

There’s another tentative knock, slightly longer and more impatient now. 

“Cecil?” Carlos insists.

Cecil sighs, looking down. His tentacles have withdrawn from Carlos’ stomach. “That’ll be the Sheriff’s Secret Police, coming to pick us up.” 

Despite Carlos’ fear, his dick remains erect inside of Cecil. “Why? Have we broken any laws?” Was gay sex illegal here? 

Cecil is stroking his tentacles, calming them down. “I was hoping they’d leave me alone for this cycle. They’re always there.” 

“…The Secret Police?” 

“No, no, the City Council. They have to oversee the breeding of the Voice of Night Vale,” Cecil explains.

The Voice of Night Vale. Cecil. The City Council had to oversee the breeding of Cecil. Carlos blinks. The City Council wanted to see them fuck and so they sent the Sheriff’s Secret Police over. “Uhm,” he says. “I’d really rather they didn’t.”

“I know!” Cecil signs with annoyance. “It takes a very long to set everything up, you know, at the bloodstone, and then they have to sacrifice the five roosters, and then the five goats, and then there’s two hours of chanting, and I simply can’t wait that long to be bred, Carlos! When I felt the need grow an hour before tonight’s show, I knew I would have to rush over to you immediately afterwards or I would simply have exploded!”

Carlos is about 50% sure Cecil meant explode in the non-literal sense. He rubs Cecil’s back soothingly as Cecil groans and leans against him. “What are they going to do if we don’t answer the door?” 

Cecil sighs. “Probably imprisonment in the abandoned mine shaft outside of town.” 

He would rather avoid that. “I guess I better open the door, then.” 

“I guess.” 

When Cecil makes no move to get up, Carlos nudges him. “You have to let me up, Cecil.” 

“I can’t,” Cecil replies, his cheeks turning red. 

“I don’t want to either, but –”

“No, I really can’t,” Cecil says. “Once the breeding starts, I have to stay until you impregnate me.” 

Carlos stares at him. “But you were moving just then.” Rather a lot, in fact. Rather fast, even. 

“I can move a little, yes.” Cecil carefully slides up, but when it’s just the head of Carlos’ dick inside of him, he’s stuck. “See?”

Carlos tries as well, but lifting Cecil off him doesn’t work. “How?” he asks, as he keeps shoving at Cecil.

Cecil gestures at his four tentacles. “The secretions,” he says. “They’re very handy, don’t you think?”

On any other day, Carlos would love to experiment with Cecil’s secretions. Now is not that day. “So you’re saying we have to answer the door…” he gulps and gestures at the two of them. “…like this?” 

Cecil nods, and wraps his arms tight around Carlos’ neck. “Best not to keep them waiting.” 

While Cecil shifts his legs to wrap those around Carlos’ waist, Carlos thinks there is no way he can carry Cecil all the way back to the door. Still, he’ll have to. He carefully shifts to put his feet on the floor, and makes sure he’s holding Cecil securely. He takes a deep breath, braces himself, and gets up. “I thought you’d be heavier,” he says, when he’s standing up with no problem. Cecil isn’t completely weightless, but he weighs no more than a particularly heavy bag of groceries. 

Cecil laughs. “I’m lighter than I look.” He shifts in Carlos’ arms, and Carlos groans at the unexpected pleasure. 

“Try not to do that when I’m moving,” he says. While he’s still worried about having to breed Cecil in front of the City Council, he’s also still hard and not far from coming. That probably has something to do with Cecil’s secretions as well. He looks down at his labcoat. “Can you pick that up?” Bending down isn’t going to work.

“No,” Cecil says, and smiles sweetly. “Carlos, we really shouldn’t leave the Sheriff’s Secret Police waiting. The helicopters are probably already circling the sky for us.” 

With some difficult Carlos manages to get back to his door and opens it, his face bright red. 

“Hello, Officer,” Cecil greets the other man happily. “I’m afraid I’ve already started without you.” He kisses Carlos’ forehead. “But can you blame me?” 

The Officer nods, looking from Cecil to where Carlos has buried his face in Cecil’s neck, then back at Cecil. “Don’t let it happen again, Mr. Baldwin. Please come with me.” 

Carlos is forced to walk outside in the middle of the night, completely naked, with Cecil clinging to him, pressing kisses against his face and Carlos’ dick inside of him. 

The Officer opens the backdoor to a nondescript black car, and slowly Carlos manages to get in without hurting himself or Cecil. Once seated, Cecil sighs happily and begins to ride Carlos again. 

“You feel so good, Carlos,” Cecil mutters, his head thrown back. “So wonderful inside of me.” 

Carlos tries to bite back a moan, pulling the door shut. 

“Please stop, Mr. Baldwin.” 

To his credit, Carlos doesn’t flail or scream when he realises a being in a crimson red robe is sitting next to him in the back of the car. 

“Please cease all coitus-related activities until we get to the bloodstone.” 

Carlos looks out the window, and realises they’re leaving the town and heading into the desert. “But there are other bloodstones nearby,” he says. His dick is aching and he needs relief desperately, and the vibrations from the car are not helping. 

“We don’t need a bloodstone, we need a Bloodstone.”

He’s spent enough time in Night Vale to be able to hear the capital B. “Ah,” he says.

Cecil pouts. “Do we still have to carry out the entire ritual?” 

“The sacrificing of the goats and roosters has happened in your absence. The chants will be going for another 85 minutes.” 

Carlos groans along with Cecil. Another 85 minutes before they can properly fuck. Cecil rubs the back of his neck. “I know, sweet Carlos, I know.” 

***

They get to their destination some time later, and Carlos carefully gets out of the car, Cecil still happily clinging to him. The robed being leads them to a circle of its fellow crimson-robed City Council members, who are chanting in deep, low voices. As Carlos walks closer, Cecil starts nuzzling his hair. Two Council members step aside to let them through, and Carlos notices that he’s now standing on stone. 

He looks down, gulping at the dried up blood under his feet. 

“To the centre,” Cecil mutters, then nips at Carlos’ ear. 

There’s a dark red pentagram at the centre, and Carlos stands there awkwardly. “Please lie down, Chosen Breeding Mate,” one of the robed beings says behind him.

Carlos really hopes this is the last direction they’re going to give him, and he sits down before lying back, the stone smooth underneath him. Cecil remains on top, straddling Carlos. The four tentacles are writhing around on Carlos’ stomach, jittery. Cecil’s red tattoo is pulsing very strongly now, and Carlos thinks there is even a faint glow emanating from it. 

One of the robed Council members kneels by their side, and offers Carlos a bowl. “I’m not thirsty,” he says. 

The Council member shakes his head. “No, you must add yourself to the Voice of Night Vale.” 

Carlos leans up on his elbows and sees that the content of the bowl is a dark, red fluid. Blood. “What?” he asks. “How?” 

Cecil spreads his arm wide. “You know how, my perfect Carlos.” 

Slowly, Carlos takes the bowl and lies back. He stares at the tattoo, the swirls and curls that cover Cecil’s chest, and he suddenly knows what he has to do. He sticks his index finger in the bowl, wincing when he realises the blood is still warm, and reaches for Cecil.

He starts an inch above where Cecil’s bellybutton should be, and slides it up in a straight line. There is a strange sizzling noise, and then the line is indistinguishable from the rest of the tattoo, as if it’s always been there. Carlos pulls his hand back, and Cecil smiles down at him reassuringly. “You’re more than that, Carlos,” he murmurs. 

Carlos knows that too, and he slides his finger to the left, down, and right, making it a perfect square. It looks out of place amongst the rest of Cecil’s tattoos, and Carlos thinks that is just the way it should be. He adds four diagonals lines, one on each corner, then draws another, bigger square to connect them. He waits for the blood to become part of Cecil. It’s not quite enough, something’s missing. He smiles to himself when he realises it, then begins adding more diagonals, connecting the smaller square to the bigger, until it’s a two dimensional depiction of three dimensional cubes. When those diagonals join the rest of Carlos’ drawing, he swears that, for a moment, his addition truly was three dimensional. 

Cecil looks down, tracing the new lines with a finger. “Thank you, Carlos, it’s beautiful.” 

Carlos puts the bowl down, and it’s taken away by one of the Council members, but Carlos can only smile back at Cecil. His addition still looks out of place, but it also looks like it belongs. It looks right. He wants to tell Cecil that it’s beautiful because it’s on Cecil’s skin, that it’s how Carlos feels in Night Vale, out of place and different but like he belongs there as well. “You’re welcome,” he says instead. 

Cecil rests both hands on Carlos’ chest now, and slowly begins to move up and down again, making Carlos groan in pleasure.

“No.” 

Cecil looks at the City Council member who told him off, and sulks. “But I need it!” 

“50 more minutes.” 

Carlos gives Cecil a hopeful smile. “You can last that long, right?” he asks, wondering if he can. He tries to remember how long is too long for a penis to stay hard, and his mind draws a blank. He’s learned it at some point, he’s sure of it, but right here and right now he cannot remember. 

Cecil whimpers, digging his fingers into Carlos’ chest, his claws scraping the skin lightly. “I need you, Carlos,” he says. “At first, having you inside of me helped me keep control, but I don’t know for how much longer.” 

He noticed how Cecil got better at talking and explaining once he had skin-to-skin contact with Carlos, the more the better. He runs his own hands up and down Cecil’s arms, stroking him. “It’ll be fine,” he says. The chanting from the City Council has gone even lower, barely audible to Carlos now. “We can do this.” 

Cecil gives him a weak, grateful smile, then leans down to kiss him. The kiss quickly becomes heated, Cecil cupping Carlos’ cheek, Carlos’ hands stroking Cecil’s back and Cecil moves his hips again and Carlos starts to thrust up. Cecil moans, his eyes closed as he rests his forehead against Carlos’, and then a sharp pain hits Carlos, making him cry out. From the way Cecil has jolted to sit back up, he felt it too. He hangs his head. “My apologies.” 

“Do not let it happen again.”

For the remaining 45 minutes, Cecil stays perfectly still and quiet. Carlos tries to take his mind off it by staring at the night sky, but that’s not reassuring at all. The 45 minutes feel like an eternity, and he wants to thrust up into that wonderful, glorious, tight heat so much. This is unfair, time doesn’t even work in Night Vale the way it does everywhere else, what if 45 minutes here really are an eternity? What if he has to spend eternity like this, his dick inside of Cecil, but not allowed to move or thrust or fuck? The abandoned mine shaft out of town would be paradise compared to that. 

“It is time.” 

Carlos doesn’t even hear it, but he does hear Cecil’s high-pitched whine as he starts moving again, rolling his hips, his hands still on Carlos’ chest. Cecil lowers his head to stare down at Carlos, his eyes so dark red that they’re nearly black. “Carlos,” he rasps. 

He doesn’t feel fear or even mild apprehension at the low, inhuman voice coming from Cecil. “I’m here,” he says, his hands on Cecil’s waist, running one hand over the lines he added. “Right here.”

Cecil groans, bowing his head as his movements get wilder, riding Carlos’ dick with wild abandon. He hisses and whimpers, his claws dig in deeper, drawing blood.

Carlos doesn’t even feel the pain.

“Carlos,” Cecil says again. “Carlos.” He keep repeating Carlos’ name, moaning and whimpering, sometimes loud, sometimes quiet, like it’s a chant.

Carlos doesn’t speak, he only gasps and groans and still cannot believe how good it feels. The pleasure coursing through him is intense and hot, burning away every other thought until it’s only him and Cecil, no City Council members or the Sheriff’s Secret Police or even Night Vale itself. It’s the two of them, racing towards an inevitable climax. 

Even now Cecil is still going faster and harder, slamming down and grunting like it’s never enough, like he still needs more, even with Carlos thrusting up to meet him. “Need you,” Cecil gasps, meeting Carlos’ eyes again. “Fill me, Carlos, please, I need your seed inside of me.” His left hand slides down Carlos’ stomach and up his own, his writhing tentacles winding around his lower arm as Cecil strokes his stomach. “Breed me, Carlos, please.” 

He wants to, he wants to empty himself inside of Cecil, wants to see Cecil swell with his child, his children. “Take it,” he groans, and then he comes. 

It’s an intense feeling after such a long wait and the bliss that washes over him never seems to end as he cries out in raw pleasure. He’s filling Cecil right now, and he hears Cecil moan as well, still riding Carlos, still eager for more. Once his own orgasm recedes, he feels something wet and slick land on his stomach, and he opens his eyes to find Cecil smiling down at him dreamily. “That was perfect, Carlos,” Cecil tells him. 

Carlos is breathing hard, and nods at the wetness on his stomach. “Is that from you?” he asks.

“Yes, more secretions.” Cecil is rubbing his lower stomach with a fond smile. “It worked,” he says quietly. “You did it, Carlos, I can feel it.” 

“Good,” Carlos replies, and promptly passes out. 

***

When he wakes up, he’s back in his lab, on the old couch in the corner. Cecil is kneeling by his side, stroking Carlos' forehead. “Carlos!” 

Carlos blinks. “Cecil? Did we – “ Did we really fuck in front of the City Council so you could get pregnant with my babies? 

Cecil smiles at him and sits back. The slight bulge of his stomach is now visible to Carlos, and Cecil strokes his belly tenderly. “We did,” he says, smiling down. “The City Council says they’re all very healthy.” 

“They?” Carlos asks, slowly rolling on his side. He reaches out and puts a hand on Cecil’s stomach, and gasps when he can feel something move. 

“Yes, we’re going to have septuplets,” Cecil tells him, twining his fingers with Carlos’ on his stomach. “Isn’t that great, Carlos?” 

Seven. Seven children. Carlos stares at Cecil’s stomach and feels his unborn children squirm and wriggle in their father’s body. “Yes, yes it is.”


End file.
